


Faceless

by doctorkilljoy



Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkilljoy/pseuds/doctorkilljoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not every Killjoy knows the process for becoming a Draculoid. But it's always a risk that when you kill one of them, you're killing a friend. This is the story of one friend who ends up a Drac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faceless

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again. I still don't have a beta so if someone would like to volunteer that would be fantastic. I have several stories left over from doing NaNo that I haven't posted yet and haven't used due to this severe lack of said beta.
> 
> So, this story was based off a prompt I got from... Someone, I don't remember who. Sorry. Anyway, to quickly explain the Faceless are what I call the SCARECROW tactical units. You might remember them as the guys with the white masks that had the BLI logo on them. I thought it was pretty terrible that they didn't have any features except that awful head. Enjoy.

He blinked when he came back to consciousness. The bright, white light was hurting his eyes. His vision was fuzzy because of it and when he tried to shield his face, he realized that he was tied down. He couldn’t even sit up but he was lying at an angle. There was only one explanation; he’d been captured by Better Living Industries. He had to say, he was very surprised.

Mr. Murder wasn’t the most well known Killjoy out there. He’d split with the original group early on back in the old days, preferring to go solo. He’d found Party Poison and Fun Ghoul to be too reckless and had even asked Jet Star and Kobra Kid to come with him. They’d opted to stay, and begged Mr. Murder to reconsider. But he couldn’t, he only wanted to keep running, not fight back. And now here he was, in the belly of the beast. He’d always assumed they would kill him rather than take him alive.

His vision started to clear, and he took in his surroundings. He was strapped to a hospital gurney; his clothes had been taken from him. He was still sporting his long hair however, and his stubble. So they hadn’t completely gotten to him just yet. He was naked, but that didn’t bother him. After all there wasn’t anyone there to see him. Just when Mr. Murder had that thought, the door opened and his blood ran cold.

Korse stepped into the room, with a pretty Japanese girl in a white dress. Korse smiled at him and Mr. Murder felt as though his gut was twisting with a hundred live snakes. “You’ve given us quite a chase, Mr. Bryar; I must say I’m surprised. But out of your comrades, you are the first I’ve been able to catch.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Mr. Murder said. “I’m a solo zone runner, I don’t have friends or comrades or any of that shit.”

“Don’t lie to me Mr. Bryar,” Korse replied. His hands were clasped together in the shape of a steeple and he had stepped close to the bed. He looked down at Bob, that horrifying smile still on his face. “I know who you’re associated with. Or should I say you were associated with before your lot left Battery City? Tell me, when was the last time you had contact with Gerard Way, also known as Party Poison?”

Mr. Murder shook his head. “I haven’t seen Party Poison since just after the bombs fell. If your spooky police were so damned good you would know that.”

“Then I guess that means we don’t need to carry on with this discussion,” Korse replied. He went to the side of the gurney, pressing a few buttons and making the gurney shift positions. Mr. Murder found himself in a vertical position, still tied to the bed. It shifted again, this time becoming a chair.

“Nice toy,” Mr. Murder said sarcastically.

“Yes, it is,” Korse replied. Either the concept of sarcasm was lost on him or he chose to ignore it. “Honoka, if you would be so kind as to start the grooming process.” The girl didn’t respond, but she moved over to Bob with a basin of water and a towel. These she placed on a nearby table and removed a pair of scissors from her pocket. As she started to cut Mr. Murder’s hair, Korse began to speak.

“You’re going to be one of us from now on. We have a process so that your kind can be reclaimed, and have a better life through Better Living Industries.”

“Don’t try and sell me the pitch, I know what you’re all about!” Mr. Murder shot back. “Stuffing pills down our throats, taking away our freedom of choice, taking away everything it means to be human!”

“We’re taking away your pain!” Korse insisted. “We’re taking away your sorrow, your grief, your anger, everything that ever made you feel bad. Every thing that ever made you want to harm others or yourself. We want you to be happy. That’s what we’re doing here.”

“Happiness is meaningless without sadness. Without the bad times you don’t appreciate the good times.”

“So you were led to believe but soon you will see that just isn’t true.”

By this time the girl had finished cutting Mr. Murder’s hair, and had moved on to shaving his face. He didn’t say any more for fear she would slip and cut his throat. Then finally she was done and after cleaning his face, she gathered her supplies and left.

Korse stepped forward and looked Mr. Murder over. He nodded his approval and said, “It’s time Mr. Bryar.”

“You’ll have to kill me; I’m not going with you!” Mr. Murder yelled.

“Ah but see, you will.” Korse pulled something from his coat and Mr. Murder saw it was a syringe. He clamped his hand onto Mr. Murder’s arm and sunk the needle into his vein. The effect was almost immediate. Mr. Murder was slumping in his chair, and he could hardly move.

“What… What did you give me?” Mr. Murder asked. His tongue felt thick in his mouth and it was difficult to speak.

“A sedative, it will be easier to get you to the chamber this way,” Korse informed him.

The door opened and two Draculoids entered the room. They unlocked Mr. Murder from the chair and got him to his feet. Mr. Murder couldn’t actively fight, but he could sure as hell make things more difficult for the two of them. He let his feet drag on the ground, going completely limp and boneless. The Draculoids practically had to carry him down the hall, Korse trailing behind them.

They entered a quiet room, a large antechamber with white walls and a black floor. In the center was a circular tube on a platform, just big enough for one person. Korse went to a control panel and typed something in. The door opened with a hiss, and Mr. Murder’s heart leapt from fear.

“This is the Reprogramming Chamber. You will be placed inside and given a full regiment of BLI medication in vapor form. While this is happening we will be adjusting your cerebrum in order to make you more susceptible to the new programming for your new job here at Better Living Industries,” Korse explained to Mr. Murder.

“You mean you’re going to drug me and fucking erase my mind!” Mr. Murder yelled. “Fuck you! I’m not going in there!”

Korse looked amused and he asked him, “What makes you think you have a choice Mr. Bryar?” He gestured to the Draculoids, and the Draculoids shoved Mr. Murder forward. Korse grabbed him by the back of the neck and hissed into his ear, “You will be of use to us. Try to fight, it won’t make a difference. I know it doesn’t.” And he pushed Mr. Murder into the chamber.

The door slammed closed, and Mr. Murder slumped against the wall of the chamber. He felt sick with fear, and he couldn’t get out, banging on the door. He felt weak, and he slumped to the side. This was it. This was what he’d been fighting against for the past five years; company control. Mr. Murder tried to hold his breath as he saw the gases enter the tube, but it was futile. He gasped, inhaling the vapors.

He didn’t feel it right away like he had with the sedative. Instead he could taste something in the back of his throat that was a bit like battery acid. Mr. Murder coughed, but couldn’t get the taste out of his mouth. He heard a cool, female voice speaking as he was forced to inhale the medication.

“Everything is perfect. Everything is wonderful, so long as you keep smiling. Forget your past, forget your pain. We’ll take it from here. Everything is perfect…” Mr. Murderer realized that this was a constant loop, and he sank to his knees. He couldn’t keep himself standing anymore. He actually felt as though he was starting to fall asleep, even though he didn’t really feel tired. He was too petrified to be tired. But he felt like he was being lulled, and when it hit him what was happening, it was too late. His mind was being lulled into a sense of security, and he could feel himself slipping away. His last thought as Mr. Murder was, ‘It can’t end this way!’

For nearly an hour, the prisoner was left in the Reprogramming Chamber. He was shaking and occasionally he would cry, but once that ceased, so did the gas. The door opened and the man was pulled out. He wasn’t Mr. Murder anymore, and he sure wasn’t Robert Bryar. Korse was smirking as he looked at him. “Do you know who I am?”

“Korse, Head Exterminator of the SCARECROW Unit.”

“And who are you?”

The man didn’t answer for a moment. “I am designated Faceless, no name, and no rank.”

“Very good, now report for duty,” Korse instructed him.

“Yes sir.” He replied. Two of the Faceless came forward to fetch him, giving him his clothes and mask. Once it was in place, he left with them. You would never know that he was once a Killjoy, which was how Korse and Better Living Industries liked it.

Korse retired to his office. He had five faces on the wall with the red Exterminate x on them. He took down one and tossed it in the garbage. One down, four to go.

The End


End file.
